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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250992">we grow old like so, as you watch me watch you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arendweller/pseuds/Arendweller'>Arendweller</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frozen (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack fic alert!, Elsamaren Summer 2020 (Disney), F/F, cunning elsa, if it's pure nonsense you were looking for congrats! you've found it, neurodivergent Elsa, pls don't pay attention to this abomination, welcome to this dumpster fire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250992</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arendweller/pseuds/Arendweller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maren was explaining — well — something,  Elsa accurately muses. </p><p>If Elsa had paid attention (instead of cataloguing every shade and colour Maren's hair glowed with in the twilight), this whole affair of being hidden behind smelly fish carton boxes at this ungodly hour of dawn wouldn't be such a mystery, now would it?</p><p>Or: </p><p>"I'm gay if you are." Elsa catches Maren say.</p><p> </p><p>"What?!" Elsa squaks, chin falling out of her hand and thoughts of beautiful brown hues fading fast.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Elsamaren Summer 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we grow old like so, as you watch me watch you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>July 14: "Are you the one I've been looking for all of my life?"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In Elsa's defense, it had started innocently enough.</p><p> </p><p>The two of them were in a café — Maren's choice — seated outdoors, in the evening.</p><p> </p><p>"So Maren, what's been up with you?" Elsa asks. They had become very, <em> very </em>close friends very fast. </p><p> </p><p>It was kind of unbelievable to Elsa, who wasn't the most amicable of people on her best days. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, when Elsa would change her pajamas before late into the afternoon and not hiss at the sunlight on waking up, it went into her 'good days' file.</p><p> </p><p>But Maren was different. Special. She brought out something in Elsa, a side of her Elsa had never known before.</p><p> </p><p>(It was a really just a big fat crush, as was apparent to anyone who was not the two of them.)</p><p> </p><p>"So you know how my brother and grandma run a bakery, right? Well, I'm not a part of that,..." Maren answers, voice animated and sprightly.</p><p> </p><p><em> She's </em> so <em> pretty </em>, Elsa thinks, reminiscent of the first time she saw her.</p><p> </p><p>When Elsa and Anna had found out about their Northuldran ancestry, one of their first response to it — along with acceptance and pride — was confusion.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What should they do now? Where would they even start?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>On Kristoff's recommendation, who was Sámi himself, Anna and Elsa went and joined one of the local Northuldran community groups, which apparently had a lot of LGBT members like them.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa was worried. Unlike her sister, she wasn't a social butterfly. And unlike her sister, she was only hoping that the day wouldn't turn out to be a complete disaster. </p><p> </p><p>There they met up with Ryder, Kristoff's connection and best friend, who introduced them to Yelana and Honeymaren.</p><p> </p><p>That was the moment Elsa knew her night had changed.</p><p> </p><p>As had her life, soon after. Anna had found a kindred spirit in the two of them as well, and Kristoff was already best friends with Ryder. And just like that, in about a month, the five of them had grown closer and comfortable with each other.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh huh. Oh, I see." Elsa nods, not getting a word of what was said.</p><p> </p><p>Often, without realising, Elsa goes into something she feels is her  'autopilot' mode.</p><p> </p><p>She nods, she agrees, she looks all there. </p><p> </p><p>But she isn't. She isn't even listening. </p><p> </p><p>It's not intentional. But in that moment, Elsa may as well be sitting alone in a vacant theatre with her mind projecting movies of memories, while the rest of the world spun about her.</p><p> </p><p><em> She's so pretty, </em>Elsa thinks again, fixating specially on the crinkles around Maren's hazel eyes as caused by her smile.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So, so pretty. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Maren was explaining — well — <em> something </em>,  Elsa accurately muses. </p><p> </p><p>That was good enough for her.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm gay if you are." Elsa catches Maren say.</p><p> </p><p>"What?!" Elsa squaks, chin falling out of her hand and thoughts of beautiful brown hues fading fast.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> I said," </em>Maren repeats, "I'm game if you are."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." Elsa breathes a sigh of relief, mixed somehow with let down.</p><p> </p><p>"So, you <em> are </em> up for it, right?" Maren prods again, "I don't wanna pressure you or anything, but you know how important this is to me, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"Uhh…" Elsa manages to gather. "Of course! Of course I know! I'll do it, no problem!" She says, a bit too energetic. But that's just what panic will do to you.</p><p> </p><p>A grin, warm and wide, spreads across Maren's face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The crinkles are back again too. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Great!" Maren says, "I'll let you know the time and place. And don't be late. You heard yourself what a weird man he can be." She says, getting up, shuffling with her purse pouch and wearing the leash across her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks Elsa," Maren bends down to half-hug Elsa. </p><p> </p><p>"I owe you one."</p><p> </p><p>__________________________________</p><p> </p><p><em> Westergård port. 5.00 - 7.00 A.M, </em>the text had said.</p><p> </p><p><em> 7.32 A.M., </em>Elsa's phone does right now.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn't enough that Elsa had to wake up at (stay up till)  five in the morning to meet up with some sketchy guy who probably ran his janky business so early because he  moonlighted as a serial killer.</p><p> </p><p>No, it wasn't enough.  He just <em> had </em> to be late, too. </p><p> </p><p><em> How is thing even a thing you're involved in, Maren? </em>Elsa wonders, tucking her scarf upto her chin as the wind nipped at her face and the chill tried to break into her black windbreaker. She is actually dressed quite adeptly for a secret meeting.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What exactly have you been saying while I was zoned out? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It's not as if Elsa can always decipher what Maren means when she says it either. Take the second half of that text, for example. It says—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Use this: 'A brick' </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Looking at the text for the tenth time since it was sent, Elsa goes down the fruitless path of trying to decode it yet again.</p><p> </p><p><em> A brick? For what? Am I going to have to use that now? Where will I find one here? What am I supposed to use it for? Why the heck is it in quotes? </em> </p><p> </p><p>If Elsa had paid attention (Instead of cataloguing every shade and colour Honeymaren's hair glowed with in the twilight), this whole affair of being hidden behind smelly fish carton boxes at the ungodly hour of dawn wouldn't be such a mystery, now would it?</p><p> </p><p>But Elsa isn't completely useless (which came to the total shock of Elsa). She has started to piece a bit of the picture together. Somewhat.</p><p> </p><p>Maren is away on a business trip, and it's that reason why she has tagged in Elsa's help to do… whatever this is and also why she can't be contacted until she's back tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>That's the good news.</p><p> </p><p>The bad news is this: Elsa may have, somehow, totally innocently, <em> have no idea what Maren's work is. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> This is so bad, </em> Elsa thinks to herself, <em> I have to — </em></p><p> </p><p>"What's red, rectangle, and bad for your teeth?" </p><p> </p><p>A man appears next to her, <em> the man. </em>The only visible parts of him are his eyes and reddish flicks of hair.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa doesn't even know when it comes to her.</p><p> </p><p>"A brick."</p><p> </p><p>The man nods, satisfied with the answer.</p><p> </p><p>" Your shipment is ready. What have you got for me?"</p><p> </p><p>"Uhh.."</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What? Had Maren mentioned a shipment? Or even it's payment? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Even if she had, it's not as if Elsa would have remembered. Looking back, Maren must have said something about it. She would never send Elsa into a situation with nothing to fend for herself. </p><p> </p><p>But fend for herself, she must. This shipment is important to Maren. She's depending on Elsa. Seeing how Elsa is partly to blame for being in this situation, and what an inattentive friend she's been, it's only fair.</p><p> </p><p>"Umm. I don't know. What do you want?" Elsa improvises.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait." The mans said, his eyes wide. "I can ask for it now?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're the man with the shipment, right?" Elsa hopes this doesn't go too far off the rails.</p><p> </p><p>"That's right. <em> I am. </em>" He says, as if he's just realised it himself.</p><p> </p><p>"So? Do you know what you want?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Yes. </em>Yes, I do!" He sounds really excited about it. </p><p> </p><p>"And?"</p><p> </p><p>"You know that band 'Sven and the Snowmen?'" He asks, eyes lit up.</p><p> </p><p>It takes Elsa by surprise. Of course she's heard of them. Everyone has. She's even heard them blaring out of her sisters room on one too many occasions.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, yeah?"</p><p> </p><p>"I want a ticket — no, make that <em> two </em>— of their concert in Arendelle."</p><p> </p><p>"Um. Okay? Okay. So. Here's the deal." Elsa starts, putting her most convincing voice forward.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't have it on me right now. But don't you worry," she adds a finger-wag there, glad nobody she knows can see her. </p><p> </p><p>"Just hand over the shipment now and we can arrange a safe, simple way to get you those. Deal? Dea—"</p><p> </p><p>"No deal." He says, voice flat. "No ticket, no shipment."  </p><p> </p><p>"But—"</p><p> </p><p>"You have until tomorrow, same time. Show up — tickets up front — or forget the shipment. Understood?"</p><p> </p><p>"What about money, are you sure you don't just want—"</p><p> </p><p>"I. Said. Understood?"</p><p> </p><p>Elsa acquiesces. "Understood."</p><p> </p><p>"Good." The man says, turns around and walks away, obscured by fish cartons.</p><p> </p><p>Her sighing visible in white swirls of the morning air, Elsa walks back to her Nøkk.</p><p> </p><p>In the driver seat of her car, Elsa finally lets out. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Where am I going to get two Sven and the Snowmen concert tickets by tomorrow morning? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Elsa thinks, checking their status on her phone. </p><p> </p><p>Save for a few <em>incredulously expensive </em>couple of them, it's completely sold out.</p><p> </p><p>She's scrolling through their Instagram — some part in hope, other in despair — to see if there's any trick she can pull.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is hopeless. I have to tell Maren, the moment I can reach her. This is all my fault. If only I had — </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> What do we have here? </em>, Elsa thinks as she looks at an Instagram post, and ditches whatever cowardly train of thought she had been ruminating on seconds ago.</p><p> </p><p>Putting her phone down, she grips the steering wheel.</p><p> </p><p>She knows exactly where to go.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> For Maren. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> __________________________________________ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Oh hey, you're not allowed to be back here—"</p><p> </p><p>Ryder turns at the sound of the door opening, speaking to whichever customer had accidentally wandered back into the storage room.</p><p> </p><p>He stops when he sees Elsa.</p><p> </p><p>And from the look in her eyes, it's no accident.</p><p> </p><p>"You can make an exception for a friend, can't you? Just this once." She says with feigned request, already shutting the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>"Elsa! Sure. What brings you here? In the mood for some blueberry muffins?"</p><p> </p><p>"No. Something a bit more…" she shoves her phone in his face.</p><p> </p><p>"...limited?"</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I see." He said, seeing their 'Sven and the Snowmen' affiliated limited offer contest program  Instagram post.</p><p> </p><p>They could really work on that title.</p><p> </p><p>"Wasn't it just Anna? I didn't know you were a fan of theirs too."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not." </p><p> </p><p>"Uh, okay." He gulps. Her expression seemed vaguely, weirdly familiar. "You know how this works. You pay at the counter, you pick a snowman cupcake from one of the shelves, and if your liner has the symbol at the bottom — <em> woohoo! — </em>the tickets are yours."</p><p> </p><p>"No Ryder." Elsa steps forward, "that's not how this is going to work."</p><p> </p><p>"What?" Ryder falters. Slowly, he is reminded of where and when he's seen Elsa like that before. In the presence of a certain, word-based board game that will go unplayed by their group of friends forever.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa had her Scrabble Face On.</p><p> </p><p>"Let me tell you how this works, Ryder.</p><p> </p><p>"First, you are going to tell me which one those cupcakes is the one with the symbol. Then I pay, pick it out of your shelves. I win and get the tickets. That's how this works, Ryder. Okay?"</p><p> </p><p>"What," Ryder breathes, "what are you talking about?! What's wrong with you?!"</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sorry Ryder."</p><p> </p><p>"You expect me to break my oath as a baker? As a keeper of cakes? Saviour of sweets? Is that what you're asking me to do?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't want to Ryder, you have to believe me. I believe in the power of chocolate myself. I know how hard this must be for you." Elsa tries, shaken by her actions, the seriousness of the situation.</p><p> </p><p>"Good. Because I'm not doing it. I don't know what you've gotten yourself into Elsa," he says, tone defiant, "but you know as well as I do that some powers we just shouldn't mess with. This is the code of confectionery, Elsa. It's bigger than me. I cannot compromise my <em> duty </em> , <em> my law, </em> for anything. Come what may." Ryder declares, his words ringing the grit and determination of all the brave souls that came before him.</p><p> </p><p>"I didn't want to do this, Ryder." She says, tone deflated.</p><p> </p><p>"But I will."</p><p> </p><p>"Do what exactly?" He asks, arms crossed.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll show Maren your finstagram." She states, holding out her phone again.</p><p> </p><p>"What? No." Ryder says, disbelieving.</p><p> </p><p>"If you do that, then she'll— she'll—"</p><p> </p><p>"She'll find your post from March." Elsa finishes for him, wary of the dire predicament she was in.</p><p> </p><p>"The one in which you are at the premier screening of 'The Snow Queen'. Without her. Which she couldn't see herself because she was sick. For that one movie she was dying to watch." Elsa threatens.</p><p> </p><p>"Elsa! <em> Please! You don't know what you're talking about!" </em></p><p> </p><p>"<em> I WISH I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!" </em>Elsa snaps.</p><p> </p><p>There is a pause in which reality sets in for the both of them. </p><p> </p><p>"But this is real, Ryder." She evens her voice. "This is happening. And it doesn't have to be like this. You know that. It doesn't have to."</p><p> </p><p>Ryder is shaking. "It wasn't my fault, Elsa. I didn't want to. I didn't even care about it! It was just the guy who asked me out had — and I just couldn't tell her — I swear I never,<em> I never—" </em></p><p> </p><p>"I know Ryder. I know." She tries to placate him.</p><p> </p><p>"I just didn't tell her. You know how she can get. It was just this boy I liked, and —" Elsa almost finds it funny how she can empathize with that situation.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm know, Ryder. You two are going steady now, right?"</p><p> </p><p>"That's right." He sounds so small.</p><p> </p><p>"That's nice, isn't it?"</p><p> </p><p>He nods his head in response.</p><p> </p><p>"You know what you have to do, don't you Ryder?"</p><p> </p><p>Closing his eyes shut, Ryder gave a single reluctant nod.</p><p> </p><p><em> Good, </em>Elsa thought miserably.</p><p> </p><p>_________________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She pays up at the counter.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Okay, I'm here. This is it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Once she gets the cupcake with the special symbol, all she has to do is scan it, and the digital tickets will be hers. To print, to send, to share.</p><p> </p><p>Then she can hand it to the weird guy from the port, get the shipment, and live platonically ever after with Maren.</p><p> </p><p><em> Second shelf. Bottom left corner, </em>the text from Ryder reads.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa has to wait her turn in line, where there were still a couple of customers in front of her. </p><p> </p><p>Eyes on the prize, she prays no one gets to it before her. </p><p>Thankfully, the second shelf was a bit high, and people tend to pick things at eye level in front of them.</p><p> </p><p><em> Just one more left now, </em>Elsa comments to herself on the dwindling line.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the guy in front of her picks his cupcake, Elsa can finally breathe in relief again.</p><p> </p><p>And pick he does.</p><p> </p><p>The bottom left cupcake.</p><p> </p><p>From the second shelf.</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh no, </em>Elsa thinks to herself.</p><p> </p><p><em> This can't be happening, </em>she thinks, now standing stunned in front of the shelves. They may as well be empty to her.</p><p> </p><p>Shocked, Elsa turns around to see the person who cheated her out of her agony.</p><p> </p><p>He's eating the cupcake right now. Notices the wrapper. Inspects it closer and. And—</p><p> </p><p>And Elsa can't bear to see it.</p><p> </p><p>Or the fact that she recognizes him. </p><p> </p><p>(That man. The tall, blonde man.)</p><p> </p><p>Or the fact that she knows exactly what she has to do.</p><p> </p><p>Again.</p><p> </p><p>__________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>In the same moment his phone screen lights up with <em> Congrats! Tickets confirmed!, </em>there's a knock on Kristoff's car window.</p><p> </p><p>It startles him at first, but then he sees the person behind them.</p><p> </p><p>"Elsa, what are you doing here?" He opens the passenger door for her.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, just getting some pastries and whatnot," she says, taking her seat shotgun. "You know, me and my sweet tooth."</p><p> </p><p>"Fancy running into you here, huh?" She says, teeth bared into a smile. A very uncharacteristic one.</p><p> </p><p>"I guess, it is Ryder's place, ya know?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Does she ever. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah. That's true, that's true. <em> Oh hey!" </em>She exclaims.</p><p> </p><p>"What've you got there?" She points to his phone, the congratulations still showing on the screen.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh this? You won't believe what just happened."</p><p> </p><p>"<em> What? Tell me </em>!" Kristoff doesn't recall ever hearing Elsa's voice go that pitchy.</p><p> </p><p>"So I got this cupcake, right? Limited offer or whatever. And there's this symbol on it, like for scanning. So I do that, right? And guess what?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em> What?" </em></p><p> </p><p>" I got two tickets to that Sven and the Snowmen concert in Arendelle!"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "No way!" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I know right?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Wow, Kristoff!" </em> she smiles so big, her voice comes out gritted, " <em> I don't believe it!"</em></p><p> </p><p>"You know what this reminds me of?" Elsa asks, tone clearer and eyes sharp.</p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>"You know how you like to eat ice?" </p><p> </p><p>"Um," Kristoff mumbles, unsure where this was going. "Uh-huh."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, remember how you took out the entire ice tray out that one time and <em> accidentally</em> left them next to Anna's iPod and the ice melted away and completely ruined Anna's iPod? This is exactly what that reminds me of."</p><p> </p><p>"What? How on earth does this situation remind you of that?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Elsa's voice smoothes, "Remember how I took the fall for it so you guys could still go out on that date and kiss  as an official couple for the very first time?" </p><p> </p><p>"I mean," Kristoff says, "I do remember that, and I appreciate it, but what's it got to do anything?"</p><p> </p><p>"I helped you back then, didn't I? And I've got a feeling you're going to help me out now."</p><p> </p><p>"Help you out? How?"</p><p> </p><p>"Those tickets," Elsa says, "give them to me."</p><p> </p><p>Silence falls inside the car. Broken only when Kristoff says, "Yeah. No. I'm not gonna do that."</p><p> </p><p>"Even if I could tell Anna the truth about the iPod?"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, that happened <em> ages </em>ago—"</p><p> </p><p>"Exactly." Elsa interrupts him. "So not only have you ruined her iPod, you've also been keeping it from her. <em> Lying to her. </em>How do you think Anna's going to take that?"</p><p> </p><p><em> Awfully, </em>Elsa knows. If there's one thing Anna hates, it's secrets.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Well, </em>if you are going to do that, I need these tickets even more, don't I? As a gift, as a means to patch things up?"</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Or </em>," Elsa says through a clenched jaw, "you could just give them to me, because what Anna doesn't know can't hurt her!"</p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head, Kristoff retorts, "I—"</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Kristoff!" </em> Elsa cuts, " <em> you don't even like this band. Why are you so hell bent on going anyways?" </em></p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly, he makes eye contact with Elsa. Sighing, he confides.</p><p> </p><p>"There's a Reindeer farm outside of Arendelle that's hosting a Reindeer Fest next week."</p><p> </p><p>"And?" Elsa asks, confused, "what does that have to with anything?"</p><p> </p><p>"You don't get it, Elsa. I . Have. To. Go." </p><p> </p><p>"So? Just go then? What's the problem?"</p><p> </p><p>"The problem is that I want to go with Anna. And she's <em> not </em> interested." </p><p> </p><p>"Um. Okay, I can see that. But what does that have to do with this concert?"</p><p> </p><p>"Its— it's a couple thing. We have to do something she likes that I don't so that later, <em> we </em> can do something <em> I </em> like that <em> she </em>doesn't. Get it?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Elsa does.</p><p> </p><p>"And you can't just, like, take Ryder or something?" </p><p> </p><p>"He's already going with that boyfriend of his. Why can't I have that, Elsa? Why don't I deserve to take a week-long vacation with my girlfriend <em> and </em> be surrounded by reindeers at the same time? Doesn't that sound like heaven?"</p><p> </p><p><em> It sounds smelly, </em>Elsa doesn't say.</p><p> </p><p>"I mean," he huffs, running his hands through his hair, "Ever since I found out about it, <em> it's all I think about. </em>When I'm awake, when I'm asleep." His voice hitches.</p><p> </p><p>"A reindeer festival. A carnival. Of <em>reindeers</em>. For a<em> whole week. </em>Oh god. Sometimes," Elsa sees him wipe something from the corner of his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"Sometimes it feels like I can almost touch it, Elsa." He says, falling back on his car seat with a thud.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa appreciates the silence that comes, because she knows what she's about to say and clear it with.</p><p> </p><p>"If I—" she pauses, gravity of her promise not lost on her. "If I can get Anna to go to this Reindeer Fest with you — no concert required — will you give me the tickets?"</p><p> </p><p>He turns his face towards her.</p><p> </p><p>"You're doing this for someone important too, aren't you?" He asks, "You don't like this band all that much either."</p><p> </p><p>Elsa doesn't reply, answer obvious.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. If you can convince Anna of that, you can have the tickets."</p><p> </p><p>Elsa knows what she has to do.</p><p> </p><p>As usual.</p><p> </p><p>__________________________________________</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Elsa feels exhausted heading back to her and Anna's apartment.</p><p> </p><p>This time yesterday, give or take a few minutes, Elsa couldn't have predicted the kind of day she was going to have. </p><p> </p><p>Already, she can't wait for tomorrow to be over.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm home." She calls out.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey sis!" Anna says from the living room couch. She's sucking on a popsicle, wrong way up, just how she likes it. It brings a smile to Elsa's face.</p><p> </p><p>"You said in your text you wanted to talk?"Anna asks.</p><p> </p><p>With a groan, Elsa all but falls onto the seat next to her sister.</p><p> </p><p>"I need to ask you a favour. You're not allowed to say no." </p><p> </p><p>"If this is about my stuffed toys again, I'm not re-hashing that discussion again." Anna states preemptively.</p><p> </p><p>"And they don't take up <em> that </em> much space on my bed. So Kristoff may have fallen off once. Or twice. Or six times. I don't see what—"</p><p> </p><p>"There's a Reindeer Fest out of Arendelle next week, and you have to go."</p><p> </p><p>Anna takes her moment to process that.</p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>"You heard me."</p><p> </p><p>"Doesn't mean I <em> understand </em> it."</p><p> </p><p>"Trust me," Elsa sighs, "you don't want to. Or need to."</p><p> </p><p>"Mm-hmm. Okay" Anna says sarcastically. "And why would I do that?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Here we go. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Like, what do I get out of it? Apart from you being all ominous, that is."</p><p> </p><p>So far, Elsa has had it easy. Not that she believes it, but it's true.</p><p> </p><p>So far, she's been playing with other people's toys. Their secrets, their objectives. </p><p>Their stakes.</p><p> </p><p>This time, it's personal.</p><p> </p><p>"That big box of Oaken Rochers Uncle Mattias got us a few days ago." Elsa puts flatly.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, what about it?" Anna asks</p><p> </p><p>"You can have it."</p><p> </p><p>The front half of Anna's popsicle breaks and falls onto the plate she was holding with her other hand. Rather appropriately.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you mean 'I can have it'?"</p><p> </p><p>"I mean," Elsa says slowly, <em> painfully </em>, "you can have my share of it."</p><p> </p><p><em> "Are you serious?" </em>Anna puts her popsicle aside, placing a hand on Elsa's forehead.</p><p> </p><p><em> Am I? </em>Elsa asks herself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Am I really doing this? This was chocolate. It couldn't have come to that, could it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> For Maren, </em>another part of Elsa answers.</p><p> </p><p><em> "Are you feeling all right?" </em> Anna asks, not finding anything wrong with Elsa's temperature. "You know this is <em> Oaken Rochers, </em>right? The best chocolate in all the world? The pride and joy of Arendelle city?"</p><p> </p><p>"So, will you do it now?" Elsa counters with her own question.</p><p> </p><p>"I mean, that's jumping-off-the-building material, Elsa. I can't argue with that." Anna replies.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh thank god." Elsa moans, leaning back, and almost falls asleep right there.</p><p> </p><p>She has an early morning tomorrow anyway.</p><p> </p><p>__________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>She printed the tickets. Handed them over to the weirdo guy. Who was late. Again.</p><p> </p><p>("I don't actually like that band, you know." He'd said, failing to hide his excitement. </p><p> </p><p><em> After all the hoops I jumped through, you better. </em>)</p><p> </p><p>She took the shipment (it's a big brown sealed cardboard box), put it in her backseat. And left.</p><p> </p><p><em> Done, </em>Elsa thought.</p><p> </p><p><em> I am finally, </em> finally <em> done. </em></p><p> </p><p>She drives all the way to Maren's flat, who was back from her business trip.</p><p> </p><p>"Elsa!" </p><p> </p><p>When Maren opened the door for Elsa, that's when she really understood what people meant when they called other people a sight for sore eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"You won't believe how happy I am to see you!" Maren says, taking the box aside and wrapping Elsa in a big, warm, long-awaited hug.</p><p> </p><p>Bringing her own hands up to Maren's back, Elsa buries her head in Maren's neck.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Me too." </em>She murmurs softly.</p><p> </p><p>"So," Maren starts, pulling away after what must be at least a full minute.</p><p> </p><p>"How was your day yesterday? I know it must have been weird, meeting up Hans especially." Maren says. "It's like I told you before — he's a shady guy, but harmless. He <em>insists</em> on having a code word and asking 'what he'll get in return' every time. <em>With everyone. Even me.</em> <em>Even though there's </em>an active, ongoing account with his brothers' company. Anyways," Maren pauses, looking for something. She finds it in a cabinet drawer. "I hope the shipment wasn't too much trouble."</p><p>Elsa would have laughed at that. She doesn't, however, because there's something far more interesting taking place.</p><p> </p><p>With the edge of a scissor, Maren cuts open the seal holding the box shut.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever was inside, was the root cause that was the crux of everything Elsa had to endure yesterday.</p><p> </p><p>As Maren unfolds the flaps, Elsa feels her heart stop.</p><p> </p><p><em> Oaken Rochers. </em> Loads <em> of them. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Maren, what is this?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"I guess it's time the world knew, isn't it? Behold, Elsa!" Maren tries to impersonate an aging, bearded wizard. She fails.</p><p>"For you are the first to bear witness to the new and improved, tastier, scrumptier, heart-stopping-er—"</p><p> </p><p>"Maren."</p><p> </p><p>"Sorry, sorry. But yeah, this is the improved version of our old, beloved Oakens Rocher."</p><p> </p><p>"What?!"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, okay. Let me start from the beginning. So you know how I'm a head choclatier at Oakens Rocher, right? And that I manage their Arendelle front apart from the usual patissier duties?"</p><p> </p><p>When Elsa pretend-nods to understand everything this time, it's for <em> absolutely different </em>reasons from before.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maren has been a desert chef all this while? An expert at making the one thing Elsa can never have enough of? For one the best chocolate companies out there? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> THIS ENTIRE TIME?! </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> I </em> have <em> to stop zoning out. </em></p><p> </p><p>"So over a year ago I proposed some suggestions that could better the overall quality and texture and taste, just the overall experience of the chocolate. And it got accepted, and now. Finally. <em> It's here </em>!" She gestures animatedly to the box.</p><p> </p><p><em> "And this is the very first shipment!" </em>She singsongs, timbre high as her spirits.</p><p> </p><p>"So thankyou thankyou thankyou for doing me that favour back there." She says, squeezing Elsa into a hug again.</p><p> </p><p>"I owe you one." </p><p> </p><p>"And I know just the way to pay you back!" Maren pulls up a chocolate box from the cardboard, and holds it out to Elsa.</p><p> </p><p>"My dear, dear, <em> dear </em> friend Elsa." Elsa thought she wouldn't blush, having stuck through surprise after surprise like that. She was wrong. "Will you do me the honour of being the first to have tasted the new and improved Oakens Rocher?"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "I'm a choclatier" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "At Oakens Rocher" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "I owe you one" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Will you do me the honour of being the first to have tasted the new and improved Oakens Rocher?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Where were you? </em>Elsa thinks</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>  Are you the one I've been waiting for all of my life?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Umm, Elsa?" Maren waves a hand in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>"Did you just zone out for a second there?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nope," Elsa quips, taking the box of chocolate and opening it. "Not anymore."</p><p> </p><p>As expected, Maren's chocolates are out of the world.</p><p> </p><p>"So? How is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"It's amazing, Maren." Elsa answers honestly, proud of her friend. "You've done a wonderful job."</p><p> </p><p><em> "Really! You like it?" </em>Maren squeals, exhilaration and accomplishment visible on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Elsa takes both her hands in hers. Leans close, foreheads almost touching.</p><p> </p><p>"Almost as much as I like you."  She professes, hoping the confession has made its way.</p><p> </p><p>Maren's blush confirms it.</p><p> </p><p>What Maren has to say about it, though, is unexpected.</p><p> </p><p>"I can't believe you beat me to it." </p><p> </p><p>"What?"</p><p> </p><p>""I had a whole thing planned! I was going to ask you on a date today!" </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Wait. Maren was planning to ask her out?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That simple concept does something to Elsa. Like pink her cheeks and put butterflies in her stomach.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, okay," Elsa rubs her hands over hers, still holding. "The answer is yes, obviously. But ask away."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not much really," she pulls out two rectangles of paper from her back pocket. "There's this concert this weekend by my favourite band. I was wondering if you'd like to come?"</p><p> </p><p>"This is your favourite band?" Elsa asks, fingers running over where the title spelt 'Sven and the Snowmen.'</p><p> </p><p>"Duh." Maren says. "I talk about them all the time. Honestly, do you even listen to me?" </p><p><br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Extra Prompt: A stares so hard at B as B is explaining something that A doesn't hear a word B has said and now A finds themselves knee deep in action figure heads or something equally disturbing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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